


Checkmate

by totallyinnocent



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Blood, Blood and Gore, Boarding School, Chess, Concussions, Frerard, Frerard Oneshot, Gore, M/M, One Shot, Oneshot, Pain, Peer Pressure, Sadism, Torture, frerard one shot, sadistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23276911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyinnocent/pseuds/totallyinnocent
Summary: This was inspired from fanart!Frank is at a new school. He's unknowingly avoided the most feared sadistic kid in that school, until lunch. What will happen when Frank's limits are push to the test?
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, and frank having to be there, its more gerard being horny
Comments: 20
Kudos: 31





	Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I did write this instead of my other works, so sue me.

Boarding school wasn’t supposed to be this bad. Hell, it wasn’t supposed to be bad at all. Frank was supposed to go to the most prestigious all-boys boarding school in the state, which he had earned a scholarship for, then graduate with flying colors. Maybe he’d be a doctor, or a lawyer, just something to make his parents proud and give them more money than they could ever dream. That was the plan anyway.

This school apparently wasn’t any normal prestigious school. It hadn’t been for a very long time. Frank realized this only one week after his arrival, during lunch hour.

“Dude, Gerard has a challenger! Right in the middle of lunch too!” Ray half-whispered, clearly excited.

Frank quirked his eyebrow in confusion, “Who’s that?”

Ray gaped at him. “Gerard Way?” Frank only shook his head to let him know he hadn’t heard of him. “Dude, I know this is your first year here and all, but you’ve been here a whole week! How have you not heard of him by now?”

“I don’t have time for all this high school drama shit, I don’t care if he’s the captain of the football team or something-”

Ray frantically waved his hand to push away Frank’s complaints. “It’s starting!” He stretches his long arm at the table across from them indiscreetly with a small group of people standing on one side of it. Frank was about to mention the lack of attention this supposedly important event was getting when he noticed every single pair of eyes trained onto the table. Even one-eyed Pete was ogling with intensity.

The table had two boys sitting on either side, one well-groomed boy with ginger hair sat on one side with his gaggle of friends standing menacingly behind him. Another boy sat alone on the other side, facing the ginger. Frank couldn’t see his face from the side he sat on, only the generic school uniform each student had to wear and shoulder-length, unkempt, black hair.

“Hello, what can I do for you?” a soft voice said, echoing throughout the silent hall. It was the kid with black hair.

“We heard you’re some tough guy that we can get money from,” the ginger sneered, obviously feeling superior to everyone in that room.

The dark hair shook lightly as he giggled, “You can earn the money. Sometimes people ask for other favors instead.”

The last statement piqued the stuck up kid’s interest. “What kind of favors?”

“Whatever you want, really.”

One of the guys in the group around the ginger, a tall tan kid, leaned down and whispered something for only the ginger to hear. Whatever it was left an unnerving grin on his face. “You’re name’s Gerard, right?” The dark hair, Gerard, nodded. “Well, Gerard, I’ll take you up on that favor offer instead.”

The unknown face cocks to the side lightly, “Can I ask what it is?”

There’s a barking laugh from the entourage of friends. “You can ask, but I won’t tell.”

“They never do,” he sighs with a laugh. “You’re Roger, by the way. I know you’re new, so I guess you don’t know how this works, right?”

Roger, looks awkwardly at his companions in confusion as to how he knew his name. “Um, yeah, what are we going to do?”

“Well, we play a simple game of chess. If you win, then you get your favor.”

The opponent’s eyes narrow, “And if you win?”

“I get my own favor cashed in!” he chirps.

“And what exactly is that favor?” a second bystander inquires, causing Gerard’s face to snap up towards the standing figure.

Frank catches a slight portion of the mysterious face as he smiles. “Everyone in here knows my request.” The whole room was nodding, no one saying a single thing. “I’ve got the chessboard and my trusty assistant,” he pats his bat at his side that went unnoticed by Frank but caused fear and anticipation in the spectators. “There’s a rule about playing with me, I-”

Roger rolled his eyes, interrupting Gerard, “Whatever let’s get on with it.”

In one swift movement, Gerard slips out a foldable chessboard and lays it on the table perfectly distanced between them. There was a whole collective intake of breath, all of them unknowing of what’s going to happen next with these new circumstances. His seemingly bloodless hands set up the pieces delicately, brushing curtly on his thighs once he’s done. “Your move,” he says, tone slightly different than before.

Roger confidentially sets up one of his pawns to be killed, to drag out a more important piece of Gerard’s. Gerard takes the bait and happily takes out one measly pawn using a bishop. He suddenly stands up, clasping his bat tightly in one hand, “This is my favorite part of the game,” he says in a desperate, breathless voice.

Roger lifts a brow. “We aren’t done yet.”

The bat scrapes its jagged edges along the floor as Gerard saunters to the other side of the table next to his baffled boy. “You didn’t let me finish my rules,” he murmurs in a hushed voice. Before Roger can retort or one of his friends can step in, there’s a sickening crack that echos throughout the room with a bloodcurdling scream. There’s a stifled soft moan… from Gerard. No one moves a muscle. Not the supposed friends, not the on-lookers, not even Ray, the anti-violence man himself, says anything. It’s as though they all expected it and were awaiting the next part in the series.

Before he realizes he’s doing it, Frank abruptly stands up out of his chair, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Now all eyes locked onto him, people gasped and whispered to one another at the intrusion of what seemed to be a regular thing. This would have made Frank self-conscious or uncomfortable, but he held his ground, knowing that whatever sick game he was playing wasn’t right.

“Frank, what are you doing? It was getting to the good part,” Ray whispered quickly, tugging at the edge of his blazer, trying to get him to sit back down and quit making a scene.

Gerard swift turns around and meets Frank’s eyes. His hazel eyes boring straight through Frank’s and digging deep into his mind. A cheerful sickening grin was slapped on his face, decorated with a light flush that Frank could only describe as arousal. “Do we have another challenger?!” he grandly announces, the shy persona from earlier dropping.

Frank’s face contorts into disgust, “I would never, but you need to leave him alone.”

The chapped lips that were previously in a cheerful smile drop on one side to give a lopsided grin. “No, Frank. I know you’re new, but those aren’t the rules.” The locked hazel eyes raked up and down Frank’s figure. “Tell you what, if you win this game, I’ll erase the debt of Roger completely.” His eyes skitter back to the quivering boy with his head laid down on the table, back bleeding heavily.

“That hardly seems fair, since I’ll be getting punished anyway.” Why was Frank bargaining the deal? It wasn’t as though he were actually going to take him up on it.

Gerard quirks a brow, liking the sudden defiance. “Okay, Iero.” How the fuck did he know his last name? “I’ll make you a better wager. If I win, I’ll still erase Roger’s debt completely.” The room buzzed in confusion. “But you’ll become mine.” This set a stop to all the tittering. While Gerard had beat up plenty of people over his reign, he’d never done it more than once to the same person, as they were all too scared to challenge him once more.

Frank snorts, “Right, and if I win?” What was with him and testing this deal?

Gerard’s eyes light up, “I’ll stop my games,” he says breathlessly. His legs slightly squirmed as he said that.

No one else found it out of the ordinary, considering this was how Gerard usually reacted to high stakes and his sadistic ways, but Frank did. “What the fuck is up with you?”  
The lengthy hair drifted off his shoulder as he cocked his head, but not in confusion, just smiling at him. “Do you want to start the game?”

Then another voice piped up, “No, Gerard. Frank just hasn’t been feeling too good lately,” there’s an awkward laugh, “He’ll just say the craziest things-”

Gerard holds up a hand to what Frank knows all too well to be Ray’s voice. Ray whimpers and sputters off in fear at the silent demand. “I asked Frank.”

Frank knew this was a dumb idea. Frank knew he should back out now that he was given the option. There was something about Frank, however. It was why he got such good grades. It was why he got into this school. It was why he was standing before Gerard right now. Frank was one stubborn bastard that didn’t like to be told what he could and couldn’t do.

“Of course, Gerard.”

Gerard bounced on his toes happily. “Excellent!” He turns back to the frantic group of boys surrounding a shaking Roger. “Feel free to take him to the nurse, she’ll know.” the group scrambles and lifts up the fallen warrior and take him out of the dining hall hurriedly. “Go ahead and take his spot, sorry about the mess,” he giggles, gesturing to the blood patches and smears on the table and pieces.

This was one very bad idea. A very very bad idea that Frank could no longer escape. Instead of letting his germaphobia overtake his composure, he sat down and wiped a bit of the blood away with a handkerchief that was tucked in his pocket. “Sorry, I just don’t want stains on my sleeves.”

Gerard scrunched up his nose affectionately, “It’s cute you think that’s all the blood that’s going to be spilled.”

His tone was endearing, but his words were frightening. Frank let out a cough and set the cloth aside. “Right, is it your move?”

Gerard shakes his head and locks eyes with Frank, awaiting his response.

Frank knew the consequences. He had seen them first hand after all, but he still knew that it was the only way he had a chance of beating him. He picked up a pawn and moved it to an experimental spot. Right after, Gerard’d piece replaced Frank’s. When he looked up to meet Gerard’s astonished and hungry gaze, time stood still.

Every person in the hall was eating up the content and eagerly staring outright, not trying to sneak glances subtly anymore. Ray no longer looked to be enjoying the show, he now stared with a pained expression at his hard-headed friend who had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. Frank and Gerard hadn’t stopped staring. They both knew what was to come. Once it settled in, Gerard’s grin grew even wider and more hungry, while the pit in Frank’s stomach only grew deeper.

A collective inhale was heard from the onlookers as Gerard stood up with his partner in hand, drawing nearer and nearer to Frank. Frank didn’t let the wreckage he was feeling internally show, he only sat up straight and braced himself for impact. The bat raised high and Gerard bit his lip as his body flowed with yearning. It would’ve been nice for Gerard to go easy on Frank the first hit, seeing as he was new. He didn’t. The bat collides with Frank’s upper arm harshly, sending a pained cry out of his throat. Gerard moans at the sound and the sight of the gushing blood seeping through the thick blazer.

He moves to return to his seat, but as a last-minute thought reaches out and clasps the wound tightly, letting the blood find its way under his nail and into the ridges of his fingertips.

Frank stifles his cry of pain this time, stopping Gerard in his tracks as he didn’t hear the awaited cry. He stares down at the shaking boy, but returns back to his seat, waiting for Frank to regain his composure and make the next move.

After what seemed like ages, Frank lifted his upper body back into a sitting position from when it curled up with his legs as a safety mechanism. His wound was clutched by the hand attached to his good arm, the hand on the damaged arm shakily moved a piece. Gerard quickly makes his move, watching the pained facial expressions Frank made with every movement he made to press on. His stubbornness was somewhat admirable compared to all the other players Gerard had faced.

The other boys he’d played at the school put up a tough front, but when faced with a bat and the constricting rules, the act dropped real quick. Some boy fainted at the sight of it, others pleaded for forgiveness, others wouldn’t budge but broke down crying after the blow. Frank didn’t, no matter how hard he smashed it into the same wounds, dug the jagged edges into his back, he kept up. He pressed on, body shaking, tears streaming, but no noise. He made no pleasing sound. Gerard still found it attractive nonetheless. The blood dripping off his face, from his mouth, off the patches that had already absorbed their share. It was breathtaking.

While it may have looked visually pleasing, in Gerard’s mind at least, Frank was a mess internally. He’d hoped with no avail to go numb from the many beatings. The sharp edges dug into his flesh, tearing it open and coating himself in his own insides. It was a sickening feeling. The warm gooey blood slithering down his neck, the now practically dyed red shirt clinging to his body, his poor blazer torn at the hardest places of impact. The feeling and lack of blood were throwing Frank for a loop, his head spun and his eyes couldn’t seem to stay focused on the board.

The boys in the dining hall stared in awe at the persevering soldier, bravely defying the sadistic peer who ruled this place. Soon, there were only a few pieces on the board. Everyone in the room had no shame at this point and all circled a good distance away around the table. At this point, Frank was ghostly white and using every cell in his brain to focus on his next move. He had given up on his trusty think-ahead strategy and was now only playing to prove he wasn’t weak and that he could beat him, as unlikely as it seemed.

“Your move, Iero,” Gerard said sweetly, trying to cover up his sheer annoyance at Frank’s plain disobedience of noise.

All the pieces are covered in blood, whether it be from Gerard or Frank touching them with blood-covered hands, or simply being in the splash zone of a bludgeon given to Frank.

Frank slammed his blood-coated king one spot to the left without a thought and let himself drop down onto the table, officially giving up on playing or even moving for that matter. He let out a long guttural groan that he’d been suppressing ever since his first move and felt a small inch of pain rub off from the sweet feeling of release.  
Gerard practically swooned and let out a moan of his own, though his more pleasure induced. He scanned the board and smirked at the perfect alignment of his queen and Frank’s king.

“Checkmate,” he said dreamily, harshly knocking Frank’s king off the board.


End file.
